Untitled as of right now
by Lady-Ravenhawk
Summary: This is about a girl and her best friend who escape their abusive parents by traveling to Middle Earth. I promise that the girls are NOT Mary-Sues. (At least, I'm going to try to keep them from being that way). Rating MAY go up.
1. Default Chapter

Okay, this fic is going to be based SOLELY on the movie from LOTR. If I butcher anything, I'm sorry. I almost expect flames for this one. *grins like an idiot* Hehehe . . . I hope you all enjoy this one. I'm going to try to keep the two girls as non-Mary-Sueish as I can. If you think I'm doing a poor job, let me know what I can do to improve it. Thanks! Constructive criticism is always welcomed. If you think the story sucks, let me know why. Reviews saying "This Sucks" don't help. If you think it sucks, say so, but tell me why so I can fix it. Okay? Thanks!!  
  
*~*~*~*~  
  
Rosha lay on her bed, lazily sketching in her sketchbook. A piece of her curly red hair fell across her forehead into her yellow-green eyes. She hated her eyes and her hair. They were odd colors and she despised them. She longed for long, straight black hair like her best friend (her only friend for that matter).  
  
It had been nearly eight months since she had last seen Gandalf. He usually came to visit every six months. He had been visiting her since she was little. Her mother had always welcomed him, while her stepfather thought him a fake. Using his magic, Gandalf would travel from Middle Earth to the Present time. Rosha's mother was a descendent from Gandalf. Rosha had taken to calling him "uncle" since she first met him.  
  
She glanced at the crystal on her dresser. It was tied to a black cord and she often wore it around her neck. Gandalf said that if there was ever a time when she needed him between visits, to simply hold the crystal and call for him and he would appear as swiftly as possible. The thought was very assuring. Especially now that her mother was dead.  
  
When her mother died nearly five months ago, Rosha felt as if her whole world had fallen apart. But that wasn't the worst of it. Her already angry and abusive stepfather had become even more violent. He lost his job soon after his wife had died and he now spent most of his time downstairs in the basement in front of the TV, getting drunk off Bloody Marys and throwing the empty bottles at anyone who dared to interrupt him.  
  
The large bruise on Rosha's left shoulder was still sore. She decided then that that was the last time she would ever ask him to sign a parent permission form from the school. From then on, she would simply forge the signature. He'd never know, anyway. Every night, she cried herself to sleep, praying for the day that Gandalf would return. She was too nervous to use the crystal. In the back of her mind, she feared that it wouldn't work and it would let her down. She longed to be taken somewhere - anywhere, for that matter - away from the hellish world that she lived in.  
  
Her door swung open and slammed shut and she cringed, believing it was her father. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Azalea standing there, leaning hard against the door, panting deeply. She must have run hard - with as athletic as Azalea was, she hardly ever got out of breath.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Rosha asked.  
  
"Shh!" Azalea said, pressing a finger to her lips. "They're on the rampage again."  
  
Rosha nodded and sat up. Azalea's parents were no better than Rosha's father was. Only Azalea had it twice as bad because BOTH of her parents were that way.  
  
There was a fresh cut on Azalea's right forearm. Blood ran down her arm and trickled off of her hand onto the carpet. Her knuckles were turning dark purple and the middle one was busted clean open. Her pale blue eyes held a wild gleam as she flipped her waist-length black hair over her shoulder.  
  
"Did you get into it with your mom while she was cutting something again?" Rosha asked, eyeing the cut on hr friend's arm.  
  
"Nah," Azalea panted. "It was Dad with a broken bottle this time. I punched him pretty hard, though." She looked at her open knuckle "I didn't know his teeth were so sharp."  
  
That was the difference between Azalea and Rosha, besides their looks. The yelling and abuse had turned Rosha into a quiet, humble, obeying young woman. Azalea, on the other hand, had turned tough. She fought back and did her best to hold her own against her father. She seemed, to Rosha, to be afraid of nothing.  
  
Azalea stared hard at Rosha, then swallowed and stopped panting. "Rosh, we have to get away from here. They're going to kill me this time."  
  
Rosha stood. "What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean, it's bad. Really bad."  
  
"What did you do?"  
  
"You know how we have that fireplace?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You know those long metal poles used for stirring the fire? Pokers, I think they're called?"  
  
"You didn't. Azzie, tell me you didn't."  
  
"I did. And when Mom comes home and finds him unconscious, she's going to know what happened."  
  
"You didn't kill him, did you?"  
  
Azalea shook her head. "No. I almost wished I had."  
  
"What now?" Rosha asked uncertainly.  
  
Azalea heaved her bag from her back. "We've got to get out of here. Do you know any place safe?"  
  
Rosha blinked. The crystal. Gandalf. Middle Earth. No one would ever think to find them there. And if they did, there was no way for them to get there. But, would Gandalf take them?  
  
"Yes," Rosha answered quietly. "I know a place."  
  
Azalea grinned widely. "Good. Then pack your stuff. We gotta get."  
  
Rosha began frantically grabbing her clothes and stuffing them into two bags. Azalea helped and began rolling all of the clothes into the smallest wads imaginable. Soon Rosha's closet was almost empty.  
  
"Essentials," Azalea said, stuffing a discman and CDs into the bag.  
  
"Right," Rosha scoffed.  
  
"Let's go," Azalea said.  
  
Rosha grabbed the crystal and slipped it around her neck. "Okay."  
  
They slipped out of her room and out the front door completely unnoticed.  
  
"We have to get somewhere away from people for a few minutes," Rosha said as they walked briskly down the sidewalk, carrying their bags.  
  
"We can go to the park. It's usually pretty empty."  
  
Rosha nodded her agreement and the two girls jogged to the nearby park.  
  
*~*~*~*~  
  
When they got there, Rosha slipped the crystal off her neck and held it in her hand.  
  
"So what's your plan?" Azalea asked.  
  
"If I told you, you'd think I was an idiot," Rosha said. She stared at the crystal.  
  
Gandalf's words echoed in her mind: "If you ever need me for any reason, just hold the crystal in both hands and call out my name. I'll be there as swiftly as possible."  
  
Rosha held the crystal out in both hands, straight in front of herself. "Gandalf!" she shouted.  
  
"What the hell?" Azalea asked, glancing around. She was sure her friend had lost her mind.  
  
Rosha stared at the crystal. Nothing happened. Absolutely nothing. She waited. And waited. And waited. Heaving a sigh, she sat down on one of the swings and stared miserably at the crystal. "I was sure it would work."  
  
Azalea's expression softened. "Sure what would work?"  
  
"I thought he would come," Rosha choked out. "He told me it would work."  
  
Azalea stood up straight. "Don't cry. Save it for the big stuff. I've told you that before."  
  
Rosha sniffed and nodded. "Fine."  
  
There was a sudden rush of air and a tall figure appeared wearing a gray cloak and a pointed hat. "Yes, my dear?"  
  
Rosha jumped up. "Uncle Gandalf!" She ran to him and threw her arms around him.  
  
He laughed and hugged her back. Then he pushed her gently away and stared at her. "You've changed since I last saw you. What's happened?"  
  
"I cut my hair," Rosha answered, pulling on one of the blood-red curls. It hit her just below her shoulders.  
  
"No, I mean, something within you has changed," Gandalf said slowly, staring into her eyes.  
  
"Mom's gone," she said softly.  
  
Gandalf leaned on his staff. "I am sorry to hear that. What was the cause?"  
  
"A car accident," she answered.  
  
"So why have to called upon me?" he asked.  
  
"I want you to take us with you to Middle Earth," she explained.  
  
Gandalf seemed surprised. "I can't do that, Rosha. You know it."  
  
"Why not?" she demanded, her eyes growing darker.  
  
"It would interfere with everything the universe has laid out. You were not born of Middle Earth. The heavens decided you belong here."  
  
"I think they made a mistake," she said coldly, staring at the ground.  
  
"Any why is that?"  
  
"Can't you see this bruise on my arm? Bill did that."  
  
"Your stepfather?"  
  
"Yes," Rosha spat. She was surprised at her own tone.  
  
Gandalf looked sorrowfully at her arm. "And I assume your friend wishes to come along as well?"  
  
She nodded. "Yes. Azzie and I can't stay here anymore."  
  
"And I see you've already packed."  
  
Again, she nodded.  
  
"Very well," Gandalf sighed. "You may come to Middle Earth. There is to be a party in the Shire tonight. You may attend. You will be my guests."  
  
"Thank you," Rosha said softly as she picked up her bags.  
  
She and Azalea were both ready for it. They had to get away from all the violence. They had to escape what they believed to be the most horrid lives anyone could lead. They stepped closer to Gandalf, prepared to start their lives over again, completely happy and carefree.  
  
They had no idea what lay ahead of them.  
  
*~*~*~*~  
  
So what do you think so far? I would really appreciate everyone's advice. Thanks! 


	2. Meetings

Rosha blinked her yellow-green eyes and looked around. She found herself, Azalea and Gandalf standing next to a dusty-blue cart and a bay horse. The cart was on the side of a hard-packed dirt road. It was a warm day and a soft breeze blew, tousling Rosha's crimson curls.  
  
Gandalf pulled himself into the cart and took the reins. "Come along," he said, "We mustn't be late."  
  
Rosha and Azalea hurriedly clambered into the back of the cart, pushing fireworks to the sides so that they could sit down properly. Gandalf clucked to his horse and they began to move slowly along, occasionally jostling to one side or the other.  
  
Azalea unceremoniously tossed her bag to the side and leaned against it as a backrest. She sighed and grinned at Rosha. "We did it, you know."  
  
Rosha blinked, her stomach twisted into tight knots. "Did what?"  
  
"We got away. We never, ever, ever have to listen to our parents or deal with their abuse ever again," Azalea grinned.  
  
Rosha forced herself to smile. "Yeah." But in the back of her mind, she felt as if they were wrong. She could just see herself sitting somewhere alone and Bill coming up to her out of nowhere, smacking her across her face, dragging her home by her hair . . . She involuntarily shuddered. But then the mental image of Azalea with a wild look in her eyes, stepping before Bill, attacking him, beating him up and saving Rosha, made Rosha smile.  
  
The land around them was beautiful. Huge, thick trees were growing all around with plenty of room between each one. They shadowed the dirt road and made everything feel serene.  
  
Gandalf slowed the cart to a stop. Rosha and Azalea sat up a little and turned to see why they were no longer in motion.  
  
To the right side of the cart, there was a small embankment. It leveled out to a flat, grassy area. Someone was standing right in the middle of it, staring at Gandalf with their arms crossed over their chest.  
  
It took Rosha a moment to realize who was standing there. It was . . . no, it couldn't have been . . . but, then again . . . he WAS rather short . . . yes, there was no mistaking it . . . that was a HOBBIT standing there, staring at Gandalf.  
  
Rosha caught her breath and stared. Gandalf had always told her stories of the Shire, Middle Earth and all that, but it hadn't even registered in her mind that when she went with him to Middle Earth, she would meet a real, live hobbit.  
  
"You're late," he said strictly.  
  
Gandalf stared at the halfling for a moment. "A wizard is never late, Frodo Baggins. Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to."  
  
They stared at each other a moment longer, then they both burst into laughter. The hobbit launched himself into the cart and hugged the wizard.  
  
"It's wonderful to see you, Gandalf!" he cried.  
  
Still laughing, Gandalf picked up his reins and continued on down the road.  
  
"So why are you late?"  
  
"I had someone interrupt my journey," he said, glancing over his shoulder at the still awe-struck girls in the back of the cart.  
  
The hobbit jumped slightly at the site of them. "Hello," he grinned. "I'm Frodo Baggins, and you are?"  
  
"Azalea Wynterbauer," Azalea smiled.  
  
"R-Rosha Taggart," Rosha stuttered. Now that he was close to them, his face right next to her own, she couldn't tear her eyes away from him. His dark brown, curly hair barely hid his pointed ears. It fell across his forehead in an unruly fashion. He had a wide smile. But the thing that captured Rosha's attention was his eyes. Beautiful, deep pools of bright blue that sparkled when he smiled.  
  
"Pleasure to meet you," Frodo said.  
  
"Same here," Azalea answered.  
  
All Rosha could do was nod. Then Frodo turned back around to the front and began talking with Gandalf.  
  
Rosha glared daggers at Azalea.  
  
"What?" Azalea asked innocently.  
  
"I hate you, you know that?" Rosha hissed.  
  
Azalea sat up straight and stared down her nose at her friend. "It's not my fault you choke and don't know how to flirt with boys."  
  
Rosha snorted. "Doesn't matter anyway."  
  
"Why not?" Azalea asked.  
  
"I'm only five-foot two," she said. "You're five seven. I'm closer to his height than you are anyway. So there."  
  
Azalea blinked slowly in a snobbish sort of way. "That doesn't mean I can't think he's still cute anyway. Besides, you're just mad because I'm prettier than you."  
  
Rosha scoffed. "Puh-lease."  
  
Both girls stared at each other with hatred for a moment, then burst into giggles.  
  
"People will think we hate each other if we're not careful," Azalea said, turning to the side and laying her head in her friend's lap.  
  
Rosha snickered. "Probably."  
  
"So what's up with tonight?" Azalea asked loudly, obviously directing the question at the two men in the front of the cart.  
  
"It's my uncle's birthday," Frodo answered.  
  
"Your uncle?" Azalea asked, throwing her legs over the side of the cart and staring up at Rosha. Rosha shook her head.  
  
"My uncle Bilbo," Frodo answered.  
  
Rosha blinked. Bilbo? THE Bilbo Baggins?! She thought she was going to faint.  
  
"So, what, are they throwing some kind of shin-dig or something for him?" Azalea asked.  
  
"It's a big party," Frodo answered. "Half the Shire's been invited."  
  
"Much coolness," Azalea said and closed her eyes, ending the conversation. "Party up." She yawned deeply again and stretched, before drifting off to sleep.  
  
Rosha leaned back against the side of the cart, staring down at her friend. *She's so beautiful, it's not even fair!* Rosha's mind screamed. She looked at Azalea's ebony hair and subconsciously fingered her own red locks. She sighed and stared up at the tree branches overhead. *I wonder what tonight will hold* she thought to herself. *Oh well. I don't even care. All I care about is that I'm away from Bill - for now at least. And I've got Azalea and Gandalf here with me - the only two people in the entire universe that give a hang about me. That's all that matters. And I'm sure I'll have a blast at the party tonight.* She laced her fingers together and tucked them behind her head. *Yup. This will be a night to remember.* 


	3. The Long Awaited Party

Rosha slumped down in her chair at the small table. All around her, hobbits were dancing and laughing, eating and drinking. She sighed inwardly and slumped down even more. Gandalf was putting on a spectacular fireworks show with Azalea right at his side, having fun by lighting the fireworks. (Azalea was somewhat of a pyromaniac)  
  
Suddenly, Frodo plopped down and grinned widely. "Go on, Sam. Ask Rosie for a dance."  
  
The slightly chubbier hobbit shook his head. "I think I'll just have another ale." He stood up and started to head off in the opposite direction.  
  
"Oh no you don't!" Frodo cried, seizing Sam by the shoulders and spinning him around to face Rosie - a pretty long-haired hobbit who was dancing.  
  
Frodo laughed as Sam was drug off dancing by Rosie.  
  
"You're ornery," Rosha managed to say.  
  
Frodo turned to her, his eyes flashing. "No, I'm not," he said with a wide smile. "I'm encouraging." Then he laughed.  
  
Rosha smiled and shook her head, snickering to herself.  
  
Frodo cocked an eyebrow. "I wonder, would you like to dance?"  
  
"Oh, I don't think so," she answered.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"I'm not much of a dancer. Besides, I'm a foot taller than everyone else."  
  
"No one minds," Frodo assured her. "See there? Even Gandalf is dancing."  
  
It was true - tall, graying Gandalf stood amidst the hobbits, doing some sort of jig.  
  
"I . . ." Rosha stuttered, "I guess so." She stood up and accepted Frodo's hand. He led her out into the middle of the garden where everyone was dancing. Then he led her around, following the others, swirling, dancing, and laughing.  
  
Rosha found herself laughing with him. "I'm getting dizzy!"  
  
"C'mon!" Frodo laughed. "Faster!"  
  
They spun faster and faster until the both lost their balance and fell. Everyone around them froze and stared for a moment.  
  
Frodo sat bolt upright. "Are you okay?"  
  
Rosha lay perfectly still for a moment. Then her body began to shake slightly, until it was completely racked with laughter. She couldn't stop herself to save her life. She was cracking up.  
  
Once they realized that no one was hurt, the hobbits went straight back to their party.  
  
Frodo stood and helped Rosha to her feet. "Do you want to sit down?"  
  
Rosha shook her head, shaking her blood-red curls. "No! Can't we dance some more?"  
  
"Sure!"  
  
And they were off again.  
  
Azalea was standing nearby, playing with the punk she had been using to light the fireworks. She had seen Rosha fall and was now watching them dance. *It's about time that girl smiled* she thought to herself. She and Rosha hadn't had much to smile about for a long time. Finally, the song ended and, dropping her punk to the side, she trotted over to Rosha and grabbed her arm.  
  
Rosha was startled by Azalea's sudden appearance. "What?"  
  
"Come on," Azalea said. She looked at Frodo. "We'll see you in a minute." Then she drug Rosha out of the garden.  
  
"What?" Rosha asked again, once they were a good distance away from everything.  
  
Azalea's eyes were glowing. "Let's do something."  
  
"I was doing something," Rosha protested. "I was dancing."  
  
"No, I mean, let's do something daring. Something exciting. Something . . . dangerous."  
  
It was then that Rosha recognized the look on Azalea's face. It was the look she always got just before coming up with some kind of plan that was sure to get both of them into trouble and, more often than not, a fresh set of bruises in more ways than one.  
  
"We just got here, don't get us into trouble," Rosha hissed.  
  
"We won't get into trouble," Azalea insisted, trying to sound innocent.  
  
"Liar," Rosha said.  
  
Azalea sighed.  
  
Just then, they heard shrieking from the garden where all the hobbits were. Both girls spun on their heels and ran back towards Gandalf.  
  
"What happened?" Azalea exclaimed.  
  
"There's no need for alarm, I assure you both," Gandalf said, standing and collecting his things. "Now I want you both to stay here and enjoy yourselves and stay out of trouble." And with that, he started off.  
  
"Well, whatever it was," Azalea said, looking around disappointedly, "we've missed it." 


	4. The Green Dragon

Amidst all the gasping hobbits, Rosha and Azalea found Frodo talked to Sam and two other hobbits.  
  
"Hey," Azalea said, getting their attention.  
  
"This is Gandalf's niece Rosha and her friend Azalea," Frodo introduced. "This is Sam and my cousins Merry and Pippin."  
  
"Nice to meet all of you," Azalea grinned.  
  
"Same here," Pippin smiled back.  
  
Merry and Rosha locked eyes for a moment and Merry grinned. Rosha forced a small smile and looked to the ground.  
  
"We were just heading off to the Green Dragon, weren't we, Mister Frodo?" Sam said.  
  
"Then we'll come along as well," Merry announced.  
  
Sam seemed to roll his eyes.  
  
"Care to accompany us?" Frodo invited the girls.  
  
"Sure!" Azalea chirped.  
  
Rosha stared up at her friend. "We don't drink," she muttered.  
  
Azalea plastered a fake smile on her face. "They don't need to know that," she said as they fell into step behind the hobbits.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Hey ho,  
  
To the pub I go,  
  
To heal my heart  
  
And drown my woe.  
  
Rain may fall  
  
And wind may blow  
  
But there still be  
  
Many miles to go!"  
  
Pippin and Merry stood on a table in the middle of the pub, each with a mug of beer in his hand. Frodo and Azalea skipped around the table, carrying two mugs of beer apiece.  
  
"Sweet 'tis the sound of the pouring rain  
  
And the stream that falls from hill to plain.  
  
Better than rain or ripplin' brook . . ."  
  
"There's a mug o' beer inside this Took!" Pippin loudly finished off the song. Most everyone laughed and cheered for his creativeness.  
  
Rosha sat beside Sam at another table with the Gaffer and a couple other hobbits. She turned her attention to the conversation at her own table.  
  
"War's brewin'," one hobbit said.  
  
"Far off tales and children's stories, that's all that is," said another. "You're beginning to sound like that ol' Bilbo Baggins. Cracked, he was."  
  
"Young Mister Frodo here, he's crackin'," the Gaffer said with a chuckle.  
  
Frodo sat himself down next to Rosha and grinned at her. He slid a mug of beer to the Gaffer. "And proud of it. Cheers, Gaffer!"  
  
"Aye, cheers," the Gaffer muttered.  
  
"Just keep your nose outta trouble an' no trouble'll come to you," said one of the hobbits.  
  
Frodo smiled at Rosha. She smiled back.  
  
The Gaffer took a long drink, then asked, "Who's your lady friend here, Frodo?"  
  
"Rosha," Frodo answered. "She's Gandalf's niece."  
  
"And he's another cause of trouble 'round these parts."  
  
The Gaffer eyed Rosha suspiciously. "Not from around here, are ya?"  
  
Sam sighed and covered his face with his hands.  
  
Rosha quietly shook her head.  
  
"Can't you speak?"  
  
"Now Da!" Sam cried, "That's no way to talk to someone." Then he muttered under his breath, "Especially not a lady."  
  
"I can speak," Rosha answered quietly.  
  
"Now see there?" the Gaffer asked, pleased with himself. "No harm done."  
  
Sam shook his head in a disapproving way.  
  
Azalea suddenly hugged Rosha around the shoulders and grinned. "Hey ho, to the pub I go . . ."  
  
"Who are you callin' a ho?" Rosha glared, playfulness gleaming in her eyes.  
  
"You," Azalea said, flipping Rosha's chair over backwards. "Ho."  
  
Rosha lay dumbfounded on the flat of her back. She rolled sideways out of her chair and stood up. "Drunken bitch," she hissed through her teeth. Then she stormed towards the bar.  
  
Azalea shook her head and righted the chair. Then she sat down next to Frodo. She continued to hum her new-learned drinking song.  
  
"And who's this?" the Gaffer inquired.  
  
"Rosha's friend Azalea," Frodo answered.  
  
"You can call me Azzie," she grinned at Frodo.  
  
"At least this one can talk," the Gaffer said.  
  
Sam lowered his head to the table.  
  
"Ah, Rosh is just shy. Give her some time, she'll warm up to you," Azalea assured them. She turned to Frodo. "She certainly warmed up to you."  
  
Frodo nodded. "I think she did."  
  
Meanwhile, Rosha had taken a stool at the bar.  
  
"What can I get for ya, lass?" asked the pretty hobbit at the bar.  
  
"Nothin'," Rosha muttered and folded her arms on the bar and laid her head down.  
  
"I know an ailin' soul when I see one," the maid said. She pulled up her own stool on the opposite side of the bar. "Want to talk?"  
  
Rosha sat up a bit and shrugged.  
  
"I'm Rosie," she said.  
  
"Rosha."  
  
"Who are you here with?" Rosie asked.  
  
Rosha jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the table where Frodo sat. He was now joined by Merry and Pippin. They had started singing again.  
  
Rosie was laughing. "Of all the hobbits in the Shire, you had to come with that lot."  
  
Rosha felt a smile pull at her lips. "Why do you say that?"  
  
"Those two," Rosie said, indicating Merry and Pippin, "Cause more trouble than everyone else in the Shire put together."  
  
This time, Rosha really did smile.  
  
"But they're all good at heart," Rosie said warmly.  
  
"Sam seems sweet. He's awful quiet, though. I bet he doesn't cause much trouble."  
  
"Aye," Rosie said with a bit of venom in her voice. "Boy can't speak to a lass to save his life."  
  
"And what about Frodo?" Rosha asked.  
  
"Now there's a sweet lad," Rosie smiled softly. "If you can ignore the fact that his uncle is near crazy. But Frodo's sweet, a real gentleman."  
  
"None of the men I've ever met have been gentlemen," Rosha mumbled.  
  
"Here in the Shire?"  
  
"No," Rosha answered, "I mean back home."  
  
"Oh," Rosie said. "No gentlemen at all?"  
  
"Not really," Rosha sighed.  
  
"When will you be heading home?"  
  
"I think this is going to be my home now," Rosha answered. "Maybe not directly here, but somewhere nearby."  
  
"Well, maybe I'll be seein' ya 'round, then. We can gossip about the boys."  
  
They both burst into giggles.  
  
"I heard the word 'boys' and then I heard giggling!" Azalea cried, flinging herself onto a stool beside Rosha.  
  
"You are soooooooo drunk," Rosha said, eyeing her friend.  
  
"Nah," Azalea said in a bored voice. She looked ten times more sober. "I just enjoy acting silly."  
  
At this point, Rosha was confused as to whether or not Azalea was truly drunk. But it didn't really matter that much.  
  
They spent a little more time at the pub, then headed home with Frodo and Sam. 


	5. Buckleberry Ferry

"If I never see another piece of corn in my life again, it will be too soon!" Azalea screamed.  
  
Rosha snickered, and rolled her eyes.  
  
They tramped along behind Frodo and Sam through the never-ending field of corn. They had left Bag End at the first rays of light that morning. Rosha and Azalea didn't quite understand where they were going or why, but here they were, accompanying two hobbits through endless amounts of corn. It was ridiculous.  
  
Azalea had been hyped up for it at first. It was an "adventure waiting to be had" she had said. Now she was wishing she had, for once, kept her mouth shut.  
  
Rosha smiled to herself. Azalea's displeasure was slightly satisfying and quite amusing, to say the least.  
  
"Where's Frodo?" Sam asked, looking around.  
  
"I dunno," Azalea growled, slapping at the bugs that plagued her.  
  
Sam instantly became worried and hurried off through the corn calling, "Mr. Frodo? Frodo!"  
  
Rosha glared at Azalea.  
  
"Don't you stare at me like that," Azalea snapped in her "I'm about to get pissed off" voice. "Don't even start."  
  
Rosha slowly shook her head and traipsed after Sam.  
  
There was a small clearing between rows of corn. There stood Sam and Frodo along with Merry and Pippin. Merry was frantically scrambling to pick up vegetables and shoved them into Sam's arms.  
  
"You've been into Farmer Maggot's crop!" Sam accused.  
  
An angry yell sounded from beyond the corn and Merry grabbed Frodo and ran through the corn. The others tore out after them.  
  
"I dunno why he's so upset!" Merry shouted as they ran. "It's only a couple of carrots!"  
  
"And some cabbages," Pippin added. "And those three bags of potatoes we lifted last week! And the mushrooms, the week before!"  
  
"Yes, Pippin! My point is, he's clearly overreacting!"  
  
Azalea, being the tallest and most athletic, was of course in the lead. She skidded to a halt at the edge of a steep hill. Rosha slammed into the back of her, nearly knocking her over.  
  
"Good Lord, Rosh," Azalea hissed, then cracked a grin. It was the first time she'd smiled in six hours.  
  
Rosha grinned sheepishly. "My bad, Az."  
  
There was a sharp force that hit Rosha from behind and she found herself tumbling down the hill in a tangle of arms and legs. Something rough and sturdy caught her hip as she fell and nearly blinded her in pain. They came to an abrupt stop on a flat, hard-packed dirt road.  
  
They untangled themselves and stood. Rosha lay perfectly still, gasping for air and whimpering.  
  
"What's wrong?" Azalea asked.  
  
"I think I broke my hip," Rosha moaned, holding her right side.  
  
"Oh, okay, Grandma," Azalea snickered. "Do you need help changing your depends?"  
  
Rosha glared angrily at Azalea. She loved her like a sister, but sometimes she could really piss her off. She pushed herself to her feet, wincing at the pain in her side.  
  
"Get off the road! Quick!" Frodo shouted.  
  
Azalea and Rosha stared wide-eyed at each other, then slid down the slight embankment and hid under the over-grown roots of the nearby tree. The hobbits huddled next to them.  
  
"Don't move," Frodo mouthed to them.  
  
Rosha was shaking. A dark, hooded figure on horseback loomed above them. It jumped from its horse, looking around and coming dangerously close.  
  
Rosha's hand found Azalea's and she squeezed it. Azalea, feeling the tremble in Rosha's grasp, squeezed back assuringly. Their eyes met - Rosha's looked tearful with fright; Azalea's flashed with excitement.  
  
As suddenly as it had appeared, the hooded figure disappeared.  
  
Once again, they took out running through the woods. Pippin slipped and fell as Frodo paused to lean against a tree and catch his breath.  
  
"What is going on?" Pippin demanded, clearly out of breath.  
  
"That black rider was looking for something," Merry stated, "or someone."  
  
"Azzie," Rosha muttered.  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"I seriously think I broke something."  
  
"Sweetie, it's just going to sting for a little while."  
  
Rosha grumbled to herself, but sighed, knowing that Azalea was always right.  
  
"Sam and I must get to Bree," Frodo explained to Merry.  
  
"Buckleberry Ferry!" Merry cried, snapping his fingers. "Follow me!"  
  
"Ugh," Rosha groaned. "More running."  
  
The trees of the woods would have been beautiful, had they not been zipping passed as Rosha ran. With every step, her hip screaming in agony. But she pressed on. She wasn't about to be lost in those woods with that . . . whatever it was. The memory of it caused her to shudder.  
  
"Oh, God! Not again!" Azalea screamed.  
  
There before them was the rider again.  
  
"Run! Run!" Merry shouted and lit out for the little dock on the nearby river. He reached it first, then Azalea, followed closely by Sam and Pippin and Rosha. "Sam! The rope!"  
  
Sam untied the ferry as Frodo ran as hard as he could towards the dock. Frodo jumped the distance between the dock and the ferry as Merry hurriedly paddled further out into the river. The black rider's horse hit the breaks and skidded across the dock.  
  
"Why didn't it come after us?" Azalea gasped.  
  
"The water," Frodo answered. "Water's pure. They're too evil to stand it."  
  
"Funky," Azalea said, then plopped down next to Rosha.  
  
"Shield me," Rosha said.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"I want to look at my hip."  
  
"Oh. Got ya." Azalea turned and leaned her back against Rosha's shoulder, blocking her from the hobbits' view.  
  
Rosha unzipped her jeans and slid them down. She stared in shock at her hip. It was dark purple with deep scratches on it. "Shit," she whispered.  
  
Azalea turned her head. "Damn!"  
  
"Now what do I do?" Rosha whimpered, hiking her jeans back up.  
  
"Well, Gandalf will be there. We'll ask him," Azalea determined.  
  
"All right," Rosha said.  
  
"We'll be there relatively soon," Pippin assured them.  
  
Rosha managed a weak smile.  
  
"I hope so," Azalea remarked. "It looks like it might rain."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~ So sorry for the delay! I work two jobs, go to college, and have to take care of my new apartment now. I'm so friggin' busy! I have to go for now, though. My new tongue piercing is bleeding again. Oy . . . 


	6. The Prancing Pony

By the time they reached Bree, the rain was pouring down. Rosha had to lean hard on Azalea at this point because of the sting in her hip.

The door to the small village had been answered by a strange and suspicious old man who had demanded to know practically everything about them.

"Want dental records too, old man?" Azalea spat as she passed him by, supporting Rosha. The man gave her a strange look, as if wanting to ask what dental records were.

They now sat in the Prancing Pony – a good-sized pub, which the hobbits felt very out of place in. Azalea was forcing whiskey down Rosha's throat to make the pain go away. Rosha angrily blinked away tears again – she wanted nothing more than to just curl up somewhere warm and sleep. She was cold from the rain, her hip was stinging and the whiskey burned the whole way down when she swallowed. Not to mention that the smell inside the pub was appalling.

"That fellow's done nothing but stare at you since the moment we arrived," Sam said to Frodo, pointing towards a shadowed corner. You could just make out his outline and see the orange glow from his pipe.

Frodo stopped the barkeeper to ask about the man in the corner, but Rosha wasn't paying attention. She was concentrating too hard on trying to swallow the whiskey Azalea had just forced into her mouth. She swallowed hard and started coughing.

"Isn't that enough?" Rosha whined. Her stomach now hurt and she felt dizzy.

"You've only had about three shots worth!" Azalea answered.

Rosha sighed again.

Merry sat down at the table with a mug of beer that was way too big for him. Pippin excitedly went up to the bar to order one for himself.

A few moments later they heard Pippin's excessively loud voice carrying across the bar. "SURE! I know a Baggins! Frodo Baggins! He's over there!" Pippin pointed towards their table and waved at them. "He's my second cousin, once removed on his mother's side . . ."

Frodo at this point ran to the bar and grabbed Pippin by the shoulders. What happened exactly, Rosha couldn't tell but she saw Frodo fall and the next thing she knew, he had vanished.

Azalea gasped and Sam went pale. Most people in the bar seemed to not notice. Pippin ran back to the table, frantic.

"Merry! Merry, I didn't do it, I swear!" Pippin looked close to tears. "I was only talking! I didn't do anything to him."

"There he is," Sam said, calm sweeping over him.

Frodo had reappeared next to the bottom of the stairs on the far wall. He looked relieved himself. Suddenly, from the darkness of the stairs, someone grabbed Frodo and drug him up the stairs with them.

"Hey!" Sam shouted defensively. He, Merry, Pippin and Azalea started directly for the stairs.

Rosha grabbed her bottle of whiskey and stood, but her leg was weak and she was feeling so tipsy that she fell. She lay on the floor, snickering to herself, but then pushed herself to a standing position and limped her way across the room and slowly up the stairs.

By the time Rosha reached the room at the top of the stairs, whatever excitement had been going on inside the room had dwindled down. There was a man in there with them – he was tall with shoulder-length black hair, a short beard and fierce green eyes. Rosha blinked a couple of times, trying to clear her vision and make sure she was seeing him properly.

"Az – hic – alea," Rosha managed between the now starting hiccups.

"Shit," Azalea hissed. She hurried to Rosha. "Are you okay?"

Rosha smiled slowly. "Uh-huh," she nodded. She snickered again. "I don't think I hurt anymore." She stared seriously at her hip and then shook her head. "Nope. Hic. I don't hurt – hic – at all!" She took another big swig of whiskey. It really wasn't too bad now.

Azalea chuckled to herself. "What do you say we get that leg cleaned up and then you can go to bed."

Rosha bit her lower lip and nodded slowly in an exaggerated sort of way.

"Okay," Azalea giggled and led her friend to the bed. She helped her to lay down and took the whiskey away. "Hmm." She stood up straight, looking for something to use as bandages. "This will work." She took one of the sheets off the bed and began tearing it into strips.

"I think it best if you all stay in this room tonight," the tall man was saying. "The enemy is drawing close and I think you shall be safer here."

"Hey, Rosha," Azalea said. "Find something to grab onto."

"Hic – Why?"

The next thing Rosha knew, her jeans had been ripped down, she'd been rolled to her good side and her hip felt like it was on fire. She stuffed her face into the pillow and screamed.

"Damn, this whiskey works just like peroxide," Azalea said in amusement as Rosha's hip bubbled and foamed up. She poured more on and kept it up until most of the bubbling had subsided and she wrapped Rosha's hip up in the strips of sheets.

Pippin had watched in horror while Frodo and Merry continued their conversation with the man named Strider.

"Bed time," Azalea announced and pulled her shoes off and crawled into bed next to a whimpering Rosha.

OH MY GOD! I UPDATED! WOOT, WOOT, BABY. Sorry it's been so long, you guys. Love you all!


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